Diversity

The year-long lease on my Brooklyn apartment way out in Crown Heights starts today. I think I’ll move in tomorrow–I’m not particularly excited about sleeping on the floor (until I find a mattress of course).

South of the Eastern Highway is where all the Hasidic Jews live and North is where all the black people live. I had no way of knowing I’d grow up to be a gentrifying a-hole.

For years, I was surrounded predominantly by white people. I guess that makes sense since most people tend to hang out with people with a similar cultural background. I always thought it was a little absurd that there were so many complaints about diversity at Holy Cross, but now that I’m about to become the diversity in my neighborhood, I think I understand what everyone meant.

Don’t get me wrong: it’s not bad, just intimidating. There are miles and miles of separation between cultures (even between myself and the Hasidic Jews) and I feel like I’m just an ignorant white kid using the neighborhood for cheap rent. I’m going to look into volunteering in the neighborhood because I would feel terrible for the next year if all I did was leave and come back to my neighborhood without any interaction between with the community.

Perhaps this is what Catholicism is like–the guilt only goes away when you help others.

There’s also a story that some of us have heard about a Hasidic Jew and a black man who were in an accident. That sounds like a terrible way to start a joke, but it happened and, for some reason, the ambulance took the Jew to the hospital and left the black man. There were riots. I mean, I’m fairly sure I don’t look like a Hasidic Jew, but I’m still pretty white. I don’t want to pick sides or anything, but I’m afraid that my skin already picked a side.

Whatever, I’ll be fine. This is absurd. I’m moving out there and I’m going to like it. My roommates are cool and we have a four man with two living rooms. What more could I ask for?